Dirty Business (The Leah Ryan Mysteries - Book Three Read online

  DIRTY BUSINESS

  A Leah Ryan Mystery

  Book Three

  By Tracy Sharp

  Copyright © 2011 by TRACY SHARP

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, situations and incidents are the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-0-9871750-0-7

  Editing by Ashley’s Freelance Editing

  www.freelance.mcconnell05.com

  Cover Art © 2010 Dare Empire eMedia Productions

  Dedication:

  For Jeff, my best friend and love.

  Acknowledgments:

  Thanks goes to Suz Bednarz, who opens herself up on her blog in hopes of helping others, and to the brave women who speak on Suz’s blog. Thanks to you all. Thanks also to my mother and sister, Joan; my strongest cheerleaders. Thanks to my niece, Jeannine, who has been my ray of sunshine for as long as I’ve known her. Most of all, thanks to anyone who sacrifices and suffers heart wrenching loss so that someone they love can have it easier.

  Chapter One

  I was somewhere I shouldn’t have been when I heard about the dead girl. At that point she was only missing I didn’t know it to be true then, but a terrible, creeping dread came over me that let me know that her death was the most likely outcome.

  Problem was, I was having a drink in a bar with a man I was incredibly attracted to, even though I was in a committed relationship with a man who was waiting for me at home. I was where I shouldn’t have been, not because I was doing anything wrong, but because I wanted to be doing something wrong. The act of sitting beside him, smelling his cologne and mooning over the angles of his face, was bringing me to a point where the next set of actions between us would lead us to the next series of actions that could never be taken back. I knew this in my mind and in my heart, and though I loved the man waiting for me at home, the physical and mental attraction to the man beside me was irresistible.

  Yeah. I was very well aware of the danger. But at the moment, I didn’t care. I was getting high on the rush of the attraction, on the signals he was giving me.

  Lucas Novak was head of a company that did risk assessment of potential violence for clients all across the spectrum of status and stature, he was an expert on predicting violence. Which was the reason he’d come up on my radar. His skills are invaluable for somebody like me. Being a private investigator, I needed to know a client’s risk of violence by potential attackers. I also needed to know the risk to myself, because I come into contact with all kinds of fruit loops in this business.

  Again, danger, I’m attracted to it. I guess I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Christ. Not another one.” Lucas leaned forward on the bar, eyes trained on the television.

  I pulled my eyes away from his face. A face I liked looking at, and couldn’t seem to help looking at. To see the photo of a smiling, red haired woman standing sideways showing off her very pregnant belly to the camera. Two pregnant women had gone missing in the last three months. I called to the bartender, “Turn that up, Tim, would you?”

  Lucas shook his salt and pepper head. “This is bad, Leah. This is very bad.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that,” I said and winced inwardly. I had a smart mouth. Times like this didn’t call for it. But it’s worse when I’m feeling uncomfortable or nervous. The missing women made me nervous. “What do you think is going on?” Ideas were already gathering in my own mind, and I didn’t like where they were headed.

  “Kidnappings of pregnant women are happening more often, but it’s always one victim, one kidnapper. Always a woman who wants a baby so desperately she’s willing to resort to taking the unborn baby of another woman. But this is the third one. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

  “Either whoever the kidnapper is keeps getting it wrong, or there’s something more going on here.”

  “Right,” He shook his head slowly and took a sip of his scotch. “Not good either way, but the thought of it being some kind of organized thing makes the hair on my neck stand on end. It would mean that this is only the beginning.”

  “Jesus, black market babies.” A chill ran up my spine.

  “Yeah, could be, but I hope not.” He stared up at the TV. “It’s more common than you might think.”

  My cell rang, it was Jack. He’s been my partner and best friend since our days in juvie hall. We’d seen some good days, some pretty bad ones, too.

  I was hoping it was something mundane, like dealing with past-due bills. The last few cases we’d taken had left us both drained and raw. Jack would’ve gone on until he dropped, but I needed a break. We’d taken a vacation of sorts from working for the last six months. That is if, you’d call wandering aimlessly, a vacation. I didn’t want it to end. “Yes darling.”

  “I hope you’re well rested, dear.” Jack’s whisky and gravel voice was edged with a tightness I recognized. It didn’t mean good news.

  I took a breath. “What is it?”

  “You anywhere near a TV?”

  “Yes.” Oh shit. I closed my eyes. “No.”

  “Yes, Leah.” He only called me ‘Leah’ when it was serious. The rest of the time I was ‘Kicks.’ A name earned for my flair for kickboxing, which he’d taught me, along with a lot of other useful skills. Not all of them legal.

  “Jack, please, any case but this one, okay? Don’t do this to me. Please.” I felt Lucas’s clear, grey eyes on me. I opened my own and looked into them. My chest fluttered. Then I remembered what I was on the phone for. “I don’t have the heart or the energy for this one.”

  “You had a long vacation. And you do have the heart. That’s why you don’t want to take this case.”

  “Why this one?”

  “Her mother called us, Leah. She’s…really scared. I couldn’t say no. You won’t either after you meet her.”

  I felt my heart sink. “What makes you think I’ll meet her?”

  “Because I’m standing about five feet behind you and I’m not leaving here without you.”

  I swiveled in my chair to see all six plus feet of Jack standing a little ways away from me. Worn, brown leather jacket open, gaze serious. He really wasn’t leaving without me.

  “Hey Jack,” Lucas said behind me.

  Jack tipped his head to Lucas. “Luke.” He looked at me. “Come on, Kicks. Let’s get going.”

  “What makes you think I’ll go with you?” I felt petulant and silly. I really, really didn’t want this case. I felt like crying, but it wouldn’t do any good. I already knew I wouldn’t turn it down, and Jack knew it.

  Jack grinned. “I have a large mochaccino waiting in the car with your name on it.”

  “Oh, dirty pool, Jack. Dirty pool.”

  He lifted his hands, palms upward. “Whatever, it takes. Now quit stalling.”

  I slid off the bar stool and sighed, looking at Lucas and feeling like I was leaving a delicious desert I hadn’t had the chance to taste yet.

  “See ya,” I told him.

  “Let me know if you need my help.” His face was solemn. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Oh boy. He was kind on top of being delectable. And even though I would’ve preferred walking the plank to meeting the frightened, desperate mother of a missing pregnant daughter, It was a good
thing I was leaving that bar.

  But I was already committed to the case. I had been the second Jack had mentioned her.

  ***

  As we pulled up to the house the sense of dread crawling over me had heightened to an almost unbearable level. I took a deep breath as we sat in the drive-way for a moment.

  Jack watched me, his face grim. “You okay?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “I know. Let’s go.”

  The mid-November wind cut through my long leather coat as if I weren’t wearing one at all. I’d have to swap it out for something warmer. But I loved that coat. I was attached to it and it got harder each year to trade it for a bulky, more cold-weather appropriate jacket.

  In the northeast, you’re asking for trouble if you aren’t in a parka in cold weather. Going from leather to parka is really hard for me. It just isn’t the same.

  We climbed the stairs heading to the front door, which opened before we got there. A small woman with smart, short, dark hair answered. She pulled the front of her white cardigan closed as we approached.

  “Mrs. Costas?” Jack offered his hand, leaning down as he did.

  “Yes. Come in, come in. Thanks for coming.” Her face was lined with worry. Her eyes were glossy and puffy.

  “This is my partner, Leah Ryan,” Jack said as we stepped inside. The house smelled of spices and warmth.

  “Thank you. Thank you,” she said to me, taking my hand in both of hers. Her hands were smooth and dry.

  ‘Nice to meet you’ didn’t seem appropriate to me. “Of course,” I told her.

  “Come in.” She led us to a comfortable living room jammed with overstuffed furniture. This was a house built for making people feel at home. Photographs of a pretty girl with thick, dark hair and warm, brown eyes smiled out at us, also there were several of a boy growing up through the years as well.

  “Your children,” I asked, looking at them. Who else would they be? But it was a softer way of leading into the conversation we’d be having, instead of bulleting the woman with questions.

  “Yes, Alexia and Nicholas. Only eighteen months apart. They are very close.”

  I nodded, feeling Jack standing behind me like a shield. “How old are they now?”

  “Alexia is twenty-four and Nicholas is twenty-six. He is back from college for a few days until we find Alexia.”

  As if on cue a broad, stocky man in his twenties came down the stairs, watching us with steady eyes.

  “Ah,” Mrs. Costas said. “Nicholas, these are the investigators I told you about. They’re going to help us find Alexia.”

  Nicholas nodded, offered his hand to each of us. “Thanks.”

  Mrs. Costa gestured to the sofa. “Sit down, please. Coffee? Tea?”

  Jack and I thanked her but declined.

  “Can you tell us what happened?” I asked her.

  She sat ramrod straight on a chair facing us, wringing her hands. “The police are looking for Alexia, but they don’t tell me anything. They ask if she’d ever done this before, like she left on purpose. But I know something happened. I know someone took her. She would never just vanish without a word.” Her voice cracked slightly.

  I nodded, staying silent. I could see Jack doing the same from the corner of my eye.

  “We were supposed to meet at the Country Mall. Go to a matinee. She really wanted to see that new love story playing there. She was really excited because this was the first day of her maternity leave. She was really looking forward to relaxing.”

  I nodded. “You’re really close.”

  “Very. We talk on the phone at least once a day, sometimes more. Each weekend we see each other on either Saturday or Sunday, and she stays for dinner at least once a week. Her husband, Garret, is a surgeon. He’s very busy. He’s at a medical conference in France.”

  Nicholas seemed to stiffen. His jaw tightened. “He goes to a lot of conferences.”

  “Really,” I waited for him to say more. He didn’t.

  “He’s very busy,” Mrs. Costas said again, wringing her hands, her eyes nervous.

  “Does he know about Alexia’s disappearance?” Jack asked, his gaze moving between Mrs. Costas and Nicholas.

  “I’ve spoken with him,” Mrs. Costas said. Her voice was breathy, as if she couldn’t quite get enough air into her lungs. “He’ll be on a plane home as soon as he can.”

  I blinked. “As soon as he can?

  “He finally called you back.” Nicholas pressed his lips together in a tight line.

  “They don’t allow you to have your cell phone on in those conferences,” Mrs. Costas explained.

  “Right,” Nicholas drew the word out.

  Mrs. Costas glanced at Nicholas, and then turned her face to us. “He didn’t know when the next plane was going to be, but he said he’d be on it.”

  “When did you speak with him?” Jack asked her.

  “He returned my call about an hour ago,” Mrs. Costas said.

  “Would you give him my cell number when he comes in? We need to speak with him,” I said as I handed my card to Mrs. Costas and Nicholas.

  “Here is mine, too.” Jack dug a business card from him wallet, handing one to each of them as well.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Costas said. “Yes, of course.”

  We were silent for a moment.

  Suddenly her chin trembled. “I waited for her in the food court for three hours. I called her cell phone many times. No answer.” She shook her head, lifting her hands from her lap just a little. “She never showed up.” Her tone was higher as she fought tears.

  Then she looked at me with eyes barely containing the terror she felt. “I try not to watch the news. These missing women…”

  My stomach clenched as I imagined sitting, waiting for my daughter to meet me and never showing up. My heart ached for her, she was terrified for her daughter.

  I looked into her worn, pale face. “We’ll do whatever we can to find your daughter Mrs. Costas. I promise.”

  It was a promise I intended to keep at all costs. I just had no idea at the time just how high the cost would be.

  ***

  We got the key to the house Alexia shared with her husband, who had been gone for a week. Everything appeared to be in order. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. Mrs. Costas had been there earlier in the day and couldn’t think of anything that seemed wrong about the house. Her car was not in the drive-way, nor was it at the mall. Mrs. Costas and Nicholas had searched the parking lot several times. We checked her email going back several months, nothing strange, no red flags.

  What the hell had happened to her? She was like smoke. There one second, gone the next.

  Jack and I had gone to a small hole in the wall place that had the best wings going.

  “You’re stalling again.” He looked at me as he bit into a wing.

  “I know.” I took a long swig of my beer.

  “What’s going on with you? Are you and Callahan okay?”

  “We’re wonderful.” But I didn’t want to go home.

  “That’s the problem, huh?” Jack knew me better than I knew myself. Always had. With us, it was like breathing, reading the other without even trying. We had an uncanny connection which had served us well over the years, both in work and in life. The latter in which had proven to be dangerous for us both from an early age.

  I put my beer down and sighed, placing my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. “Why, Jack? Why do I do this?”

  “What, sabotage things with Callahan when they’re going perfectly?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  He chuckled. “Leah, I’m your friend. Not your shrink. But my best guess is that it’s your absolute terror of intimacy, which makes you the wonderful person you are.”

  “He wants to get married, Jack, Married.” A shiver crawled up my spine at the very thought, and I shuddered.

  “I know, he’s told me, many times.”

  “Isn’t it enough that we live together? It took me three years to
agree to that.”

  He gave an easy shrug. “Apparently not, some people want to move forward. Want that ultimate commitment.”

  “But it’s a sham. Jack, you know as well as I do that most marriages today end up in divorce. I think that piece of paper is the beginning of the end for most people.” I stopped, thinking about it. “Actually, no, people get married when it was over long before the actual ceremony. Sometimes even before the engagement.”

  “Or as soon as the engagement takes place? As in your case?”

  “No. It’s not over between us. I just feel so…trapped, suffocated.” Just talking about it was making me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. I struggled to take a deep breath and let it out.

  Jack lifted hand. “I know. You don’t have to explain it to me, Kicks.” He looked at me, his green gaze level. “Don’t you think you should tell Callahan all this?”

  “Yes and no. This is the conversation of doom. He gets hurt, and I feel like crap. Nothing gets resolved.” I sat back, feeling tired but not wanting to move. I’d sit in that booth all night if they’d let me.

  Reading my mind again, he said, “You need to go home, Leah. Staying away from him as much as possible isn’t going to help your situation. And here’s a thought, it may even make it worse.”

  “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

  “Hey, at least I have some form of wit.”

  “Ha. Ha. Okay, we’re getting stupid.” I sat forward, pulling my jacket on and sighing heavily. “This case isn’t going to fill him with joy, either. That’s your fault, my friend.”

  “Kicks.”

  His tone was serious and made me stop and pay attention. “Yeah.”

  “I see the way you look at Lucas. You’re playing a dangerous game there. You know?”

  I looked at the table. “I know.”

  “If you want to end things with Callahan, do it. But don’t play him for an idiot. Don’t leave him twisting in the wind.”